Eveningshade
by ICantStandDroppedStories
Summary: "...and the wand went to the Evening Lords whose faces always turned towards the light, and long shadows cast out towards their goals." An AU where Lily is a pureblood. Evil Lily and Harry. Many genderbends, including Fem!Voldemort, Fem!Neville, and Fem!Draco. Oh, and an ambitious Ron. OCs by necessity. Rated M now due to chapter 4
1. The Prologue

**A/N: A Story that has sat in my computer for a while. It was originally labeled simply as "Evil Lily" I went ahead and edited some grammar issues and decided to publish this. If any issues appear, telling me so is very appreciated. That said, this story contains numerous references. If you spot _those_ than send me a PM with all of them.**

 **That said, for those new to my stories, prepare to enter my little world of craziness.**

 **Or maybe don't.**

* * *

Voldemort loved hearing people scream before her. The melodies that floated from their dying lips were some only few could truly appreciate, and Voldemort was definitely a part of the few.

 _[Avada Kedavra]_

She watched as the body of James Potter slumped before her, his eyes wide and mouth open, moments from casting a spell. All that escaped him, however, was a soft groan.

"Now, were is the brat and the bitch. They should be here... ah, there they are."

She heard the soft whispers of a woman, followed by the yelps of an infant child. Voldemort curled her lips into a wicked smile, as she trudged up the stairs towards the second story, and then into the child's room. She looked around, before casting a few detecting spells. Neither came up with any entity other than the child. She looked around some more, before she noticed something in the corner.

"Vanishing Cabinet! The bitch fled, and left the child. Oh well, Eileen did want to kill her herself..."

Voldemort turned her attention to the child, raising her wand above their head.

"Goodbye, my 'nemisis.' I barely **KNEW YOU!"** She screamed.

 _ **[AVADA KEDAVRA!]**_

The green bolt blasted towards the child, before, by the miracle of a million gods, it bounced back and struck it's sender, destroying her corporeal form!

* * *

Or, at least, that's what it looked like to Voldemort.

In reality, it was a lot more complex, involving numerous soul and blood based protections.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Voldemort you old girl, you know you can't kill my son! After all, you _have_ to marry him. I have it all planned out!" A woman with dazzling blood red hair said, the Cloak of Death hanging off her shoulders, and a wand of Elder wood, though not the Elder Wand, in her hand, "It will be PERFECT! Eveningshade, Potter, and Gaunt! The descendants of Peverall united, as well as their marvelous tools! Hoho!"

The woman smiled as she kicked the cloak on the ground, lifting her child into the air and kissing him sweetly on the lips.

"The Dark Lady; She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; Voldemort: Merope Tom Marvelo Riddle-Gaunt. What a lot of names you had! Almost one for every soul fragment you made. Or, at least, the ones you made willingly." Lilith Eveningshade smiled sadistically, "For, because of my trap, you have bestowed upon my child a fragment of your soul, and sealed your fate as his wife! House Peverall will rise on the day you're finally wed, the day I had planned since I was six! That my parents had planned since before I was born. My father may have been barely magical, and my mother a dirty squib, but they raised me well. This world is for the pure only, and I, through _my_ rituals and actions, have purified myself to a prestige above all others. My child is, and my grandchildren most definitely will be, of a bloodline more powerful and more perfect than any before."

Lily cooed at her baby boy, the infant Dark Lord in the making smiled at his mother and laughed. He gripped her prodding finger, and began to suckle on the tip of it.

"Oh how sweet you are now, but you'll be even sweeter when you grow up. What with all your numerous wives and followers, as well as a former Dark Lady, at your command. Oh, my little love, you'll bring such power and prestige back to the once revered, respected, and _feared_ name of Eveningshade!" Lily cooed, laughing only slightly maniacally at the end, "After all, there are _so many_ unfortunate families that were left with only _female_ heirs. Abbot; Bones; Longbottom; Malfoy; Carrow, most likely; Yaxley; Bulstrode; LeStrange, though I believe Dumbledore has gotten his meddling hands onto Bella's daughter; Parkinson; the Olivanders are down to Garrick's squib son, and the closest relation is to the Lovegoods, who're down to, well look at that, a _single_ _ **female**_ heir; the Eveningshades are, well, you're the heir, as well as to Potter; Greengrass has two daughters, one _your age_ ; McKinnon, oh poor Marlene, you really should have signed the marriage papers, it would've made it much easier to take your name, but we shall anyway, your daughter still lives; Black is already ours, with the soon to be imprisonment of its current lord, and your eventual marriage to _any_ who could claim the title; and finally, there's Gaunt. Oh, Gaunt, thou art mine love true. Though your heir is a filthy half-blood, she will have to do. All that's needed is your half to revive House Peverell, oh House Gaunt, the Riddle part, along with any other mud, can be cleansed with the right rituals. She already has the belief, and the strength, after all. What she needs is the purity."

Lily, or Lilith, placed her son back in his crib, and wiped the traces of her magic from the surrounding area. She quickly enlarged a replica of her Lily Evans form, and blasted it with an Avada Kedavra from Voldemort's wand, placing said wand into the robes on the floor.

"Now that I think about it, my sweet love, many other families are close to having the same fate as those mentioned... Rosier is almost down to just a female heir, and Prewett has only the Weasley's as relatives. While the Weasley family has many, many heirs; they don't have the sway in the Wizengamot to claim the House of Prewett. They'd need to marry into some money, and pureblood money at that. But who would want to marry a Weasley? _You_ , perhaps? Sure, she will have the Weasley rowdiness at first, but we can reforge her into a perfect little pureblood princess with a bit of tweaking." Lilith asked her infant child, smiling at her plans, "You'll take the world by storm, my child, and I'll be by your side all the way! After all, someone has to teach you all these things. Love, life, pleasure, pain, and all else in between! Now, all Lilith Eveningshade has to do is get you under her care, good thing Miss Lily, her finest little trick, has already secured that. Ha. Hahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Lilith cackled deviously, her plan laid bare before her child. She knew she would succeed, for she'd rigged the game from the start. Little Harry laughed along with her, innocent to the happenings of the world.

Lilith quickly got ahold of herself, coughing slightly to stop her minor bout of mania.

A faint pop alerted Lilith to the presence of Sirius Black. She smiled, kissing her son goodbye, before leaving a rage increasing rune circle on the entryway and jumping into the Vanishing Cabinet. Sirius wouldn't be able to see straight through the hate he'd feel, and then he'd fall right for her and her faithful, rat-like servant's trap. Lilith hopped out of the other Vanishing cabinet with a soft sigh, throwing some explosive runes behind her to destroy the thing. She turned and faced Godric's Hollow, and her son. She sighed, lifting her hand in the air as she did so, and apparated away to Eveningshade Isle.

* * *

"Pettigrew, what news have you brought me." Lilith stated from her position at the head of a large, ornate dining table. The halls of Eveningshade Manor may have been abandoned for almost fifty years, as the last occupants had been her grandparents, but house elves were creatures that were quick as they were disgusting. In Lilith's opinion, a creature who lived only to serve was as vile a thing as one could be. It didn't help that they were more disgusting looking than the mess before her. Peter Pettigrew looked like he'd seen better days, his wide and tall form hunched over, and his eyes beadily peering around the room.

"L-l-lady Eveningshade, I-I-I..." Peter began, before standing all the way up, his nasty attire being replaced with a butler's outfit, a smile on his face, "Have brought you good news! Black has been captured, and his trial is set for the _very end_ , right after Malfoy and his cousin, just as you requested, madam."

 _'Excellent acting as usual, you wonderful little tool of a man_.' Lilith thought, smiling contentedly.

"Good. The Wizengamot will be riled after Malfoy 'somehow' escapes prosecution, and Bellatrix will stand to prove that the House of Black is as nutty as they're rumoured to be. With my changes to the Will of House Potter, and my provokings in the Wizengamot, Lord Black will be losing his titles and freedom very shortly, and with them, the right to raise little Hadrian." Lilith stated, taking a bite out of her pheasant afterwards, and then dabbing her mouth clean, "Then, I'll raise him the _right way_ , and not that fool Potter's way. Muggles and squibs are equal, absolute posh. Compare the likes of me to _any_ mudblood, you'll see the difference. The only time that a 'mudblood' is truly skilled, is when they aren't even muggleborn, but squibborn. Born to those like my mother, but who decided to completely leave behind the wizarding world. Their parents may be unfortunate, but at least then they are pure."

"Of course, madam. You are right as usual."

Lilith smiled at Peter's comment. She loved this toy more than others. It was fun, and very useful, to break his mind into a million pieces, and then reshape it to her will. He truly did deserve a reward for this performance though. But what to...OH!

"Hmhm, come here. I have a gift for you, and an additional piece to your disguise." Lilith said, gesturing the man over.

"Yes, my ladyyyyyyyYYY!" Petigrew started, though he devolved into screams as Lilith chopped off his hand.

A silver mist began to form out of the crimson haired woman's wand, and slowly, it began to form into a corporeal hand on Peter's stump. The man looked at his hand replacement, and gave Lilith a genuine and wide smile.

"Thank you, my lady!" He said, grovelling before her.

"Oh, it was nothing, my faithful butler _Percival_." Lilith replied, "Oh, and by the way, how's your mother doing?"

"My mother is dead, what do you mean?"

"Oh, _**really?**_ I thought she was in Germany, alive and well. Wasn't that where you **went for the past three weeks?** "

Peter finally caught on to what she was doing, realizing that she was giving him an alibi.

"Oh, you meant my _grandmother_. She's doing just fine for a nearly 65 year old woman. Looks not a day over thirty. Thank you for asking, madam. Though, she is still upset over my mother's recent death." Peter said.

"Hmmm. Your welcome."

Lilith quickly finished the rest of her meal, stood up, pushed in her chair, and went to leave.

"I'm going to excuse myself, I have a speech to prepare, after all."

* * *

Chaos, absolute chaos. The Wizengamot was in a frenzy, insults and threats flying from every mouth in the room. Bartemius Crouch Senior, Minister Bagnold, and old Professor Dumbledore all trying to keep the room semi-sanctimonious.

"QUIET! ORDER NOW!" Bartemius shouted, amplifying his voice with a Sonorus charm.

The room slowly deescalated, and then silenced itself after a good three minutes.

"Alright, I hereby declare the trial of Sirius Orion Black, current head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, STARTED!." The older man shouted, hitting his gavel three times in succession.

"Sirius Black, you are here today for the crimes of: murder of a pureblood lord, murder of a lady of an ancient and noble house, the murder of an heir of an ancient and noble house, attempted House-title theft, murder of a member of a pureblood house, and the murder of 23 muggles. How do you plead?"

"NOT GUILTY!" He roared, tears flowing down his cheeks.

The Wizengamot went into an uproar. This monster, this traitor, before them even _dares_ suggest that he was innocent? Everyone knew it would be him as the secret keeper, there was no way! And then they had caught him in the act of murdering his best friend. What did he mean, _not guilty_!?

The courtroom slowly settled down to the rapping of a gavel.

"Under what evidence was I the secret keeper? And under what evidence had I killed those muggles?" Sirius screamed, scowling at the crowd.

"You are the last known secret keeper for Lord Potter, and as such, you are being tried as only you could have given away his location.

"LIES! It was- It was PETTIGREW!" Sirius shouted, his form was the image of madness, and his voice filled with desperation, "IT WAS IN JAMES'S WILL! Yes, in their will!"

"Their Will is nowhere to be found, I'm afraid. Someone must have tampered with it. How utterly convenient for you, that your best friends will, which declares your supposed innocence, 'happens' to go missing." A man in the Wizengamot shouted.

"Oh, but I have the Will. I got ahold of it recently, as Lily was my cousin, and had it read. I have presented it to Minister Bagnold, and DMLE Head Bartemius Crouch as evidence. I believe that it will settle affairs nicely, without much bureaucratic nonsense." Lilith said, all eyes turning towards her, smiles appearing on numerous faces on both sides; the dark because she and House Eveningshade were dark, and the others because she was seen as one of the most honest and influential young members of the Wizengamot, and a lady of one of the Sacred Thirty families.

"Though, according to the goblins who had stored it, and the Ministry Officials I talked to, a certain Mr. Dumbledore had requested it be sealed for 'safety reasons' or something. Quite odd, don't you think?"

Dumbledore paled at the exclamation, and the dark families looked like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

"Thank you, for the information, Lady Eveningshade, it will get this over with quicker. But could you refrain from inordinate statements during official trials?" Bartemius asked, thoroughly done with everything.

A young witch had walked over to the center of the room, and placed a magical looking item on the floor, before inserting a small glass orb into it. A enlarged, holographic version of Lily Evans appeared before the assembled lords and ladies.

"I, Lily Potter, nee Evans, in sound mind and body, do declare this one Will, as of October 29th, 1981, the foremost of it's sort, and nullify all others previous."

Sirius stared, a smile forming and tears rolling down his cheeks, believing himself saved.

 _'Oh how that pathetic man is wrong!'_ Lilith thought, the Lily projections continuing to state different matters of inheritance.

"And to Sirius Black, we leave him a lump sum of 15,000 galleons, and James's private stock of Firewhiskey. That is, if he hasn't betrayed us."

Sirius's face quickly turned to a look of horror.

"If we have been found dead in Godric's Hollow, then that is the case. He was our secret keeper, and only he knew of our location. In that situation, he is to receive, and I quote James on this, 'a thorough fucking with an iron rod up the arse, and a good hundred years in hell.' As well as that, I shall be kind and allow him a single, bent galleon. If this action is true, and Alice Longbottom is deceased, then the next in order for the possession of my child is my cousin, Lady Celia Lilith Eveningshade."

Sirius looked like he'd been shot in the gut. The absolute betrayal evident in his entire posture.

"No, it can't be... NO! IT'S FAKE! LIES! LILY WOULD NEVER! YOU-UGHH!" Sirius began screaming and thrashing in his constraints, before five aurors hit him simultaneously with Stupifies. He was carted off quickly, the entire Wizengamot voting him guilty immediately. Lilith looked shook, and sad. On the inside, however, she was partying like her team just won the Quiditch World Cup 300-0.

"On to other matters at hand, we must discuss the fate of Heir Hadrian James Potter. As there is enough tension to do so, we must, technically hold a vote. All in favor of going against the Will?" Bartemius asked.

No one. Not one single person. Except, of course, Dumbledore.

"I believe that, while I will admit her to be an amazing witch and an upstanding member of society, Lady Eveningshade is not the safest option. Lady Voldemort still has many supporters, and I have reason to believe that she herself has not died. As such, I think that we should, sadly, allow young Hadrian to go to Lady Potter's muggle sister. Voldemort will not be able to track the child back to there, and the blood magic that Lily has placed on the boy work best when powered by those with similar blood to hers."

Lilith immediately stood up, a defiant and angered look on her face.

"You- You insufferable old man! You believe that a pureblood heir of an Ancient and Most Noble house is best fit to live with a muggle and a second generation _squib?_ How dare you!" Lilith shrieked, false tears falling down her cheeks, "And this is all because of blood, and the ability to protect? Are you calling me weak? Suggesting my blood is worth _less_ than a pathetic _muggle's_?"

The whole of the dark families were glaring daggers at the old man, and numerous others were joining in. Some of his most faithful had even began to look at him questioningly.

"Lady Eveningshade, it is not an attack on your blood purity, or on your magical prowess, but-"

"Do not give me your honey coated words! My cousin is _dead_! And you wish to take from me my nephew as well? Over some sort of contrived reasoning? Nay. I see what you desire. You're upset that the mighty Dumbledore isn't the one in the spotlight, you just _have_ to get it back at any chance or cost. Hurting anyone else in your path! You claim that Voldemort isn't dead, and accuse the rest of us of being spies! You're a fear monger, Dumbledore, and I- no, we've had enough. Voldemort is dead, and she isn't coming back. I- No, I'll speak no more. Just... I'm sorry for being so harsh, but I can't just- just sit here and take insults from some old fool!" Lilith said, breaking down, sobbing violently as she cradled her face.

Of course, it was all an act. Well, she _was_ truly angry about the suggestion that her squib sister get her precious, pureblood heir. And the lying about the nature of her blood magic.

"My dear, I-"

"Silence. This matter has been voted on, a vote of all, sans one Mr. Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore and seven non-voters, in favour of House Eveningshade. Lady Eveningshade, you are henceforth the legal magical guardian of Hadrian James Potter, now Hadrian James Potter-Eveningshade." Bagnold stated, "And with that, I now pronounce this session of the Wizengamot, closed."

* * *

"Oh, you cutey-patootie! You lovable thing!" Lilith said, cradling her child, "Now that you're mine, how about we go on to make you look the part!"

Lilith placed the boy in a comfortable and expensive crib, which magically cushioned and rocked. It had numerous safety spells in place, to prevent the various causes of crib-death, of course, and had been in the family for generations. She would spare no expense on her child, as he needed to be perfect. Oh, how he would do her and House Eveningshade, and House Peverall, proud. She sighed, before shaking herself from her daydream.

She then focused on the bubbling, blood-red potion in her cauldron.

"Three drops of your blood, a drop of mine, and DONE! This should get your features to more effectively resemble my own, and not that prat. Let's see, this cup gets three grafts of skin, to give you the Eveningshade marble tone." She plunked three slices of her flesh into a chalice filled with the potion, "This one get's one of my hairs, to give you the marvelous Eveningshade crimson." She filled another chalice, placing a single strand of hair within it, "And this one will be filled with three slivers of my bone, to help you gain the Eveningshade height!" The last chalice had three thin, white sticks placed within it, and bubbled a different color of red from the others.

"Hmmm, this last one could be more pink, I- OH! There it goes! Okay, my precious baby, open up!"

Lilith took a syringe of each of the chalices' contents, and squirted each in quick succession into Harry's mouth. He screamed for a second, before the sleep potions she mixed in took effect.

"Nighty Night, my love. Sleep well, for tomorrow begins our brand new life!" Lilith said, looking as the changes too affect.

Harry's hair was the first to change, but, to the shock of Lilith, it turned the color of a dark cherry instead of being like her own crimson hair. The color was not at all unheard of amongst the Eveningshades, but it was much rarer, which made her smile. His skin paled, turning a perfect marble color, and all blemishes vanished from it. His height hadn't changed, but she didn't expect it to. That difference would take years to notice. Most Eveningshades were tall. She herself stood, when including hair, 184 cm tall; and her father stood at an impressive 196cm. Legend held that, in the 1500's, the, at the time, current Lord of Eveningshade had stood at nearly 270 cm, which started a few accusations of him being a half giant. The issue had been dropped when Lilith's great-great-grandfather had himself tested, only to find he had negligible amounts of giant blood, the small amount dating back to before the third century. Lilith herself had none. It was most likely just rumours that had fueled the legend of that lord. Or maybe, he had been through a ritual to make himself so large. Who knows.

"Oh, oh my. You look like quite the handsome young lord now. I could just eat you all up!"

Lilith leaned in and kissed Harry over and over on his stomach, and once on his forehead. Right upon his scar. The infamous lightning bolt, that the world would soon find synonymous with power.


	2. The Ride to Hogwarts

**A/N: To the commenter who said that Lily sounded too comically evil, I'm sorry she came off as that. I wasn't aiming for that, but I wanted to emphasize just how, well, pumped she was that she had literally just _orchestrated the death of a Dark Lady thought to be invincible, rigged the death or imprisonment of numerous lords and ladies, and set her son up to be a harem possessing dictator._ Honestly, anybody would cackle if they achieved that.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this second chapter, and PM any references you got. Or review on what you thought.**

 **Thanks!**

* * *

Lilith and Harry walked calmly through King's Cross Station, idly passing through into Platform 9 and 3/4. The whistle blew for the Hogwarts Express, and announced that there was only ten minutes remaining.

"Now, love, remember I'm always there if you need me, just owl me."

Lilith kissed her son on the forehead, despite his complaints, and saw him off to the train. She stare after him for a moment, pondering his training and childhood, and all that she'd done in the past decade of her life.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" A woman's voice called from behind, "Seeing Draconica off has been one of the most difficult times in my life, and one of the happiest."

"Oh, Narcissa. How nice to talk to you. Especially after our last meeting. So sorry about that, I had an issue that day, and I was quite rude to you." Lilith replied to woman, now known as Narcissa.

"Oh pish, forget about that! Hadrian is the one you should apologize to, as he suffered the brunt of the trauma." Narcissa said, laughing.

"Hmm. Okay. So, how's Lucius? Still plan on pushing the bill through?"

Lilith's eyebrows raised as she asked the question, and Narcissa tilted her head, before a look of realization covered her face.

"Oh, the Blood Magic bill? I doubt we'll get that through until next year. So unfortunate." Narcissa said, "Well, try again. We _must_ get it through, for the sake of our kind."

"Right you are, Narcissa. Right you are." Lilith replied, "Tea, maybe? I'm quite famished. Maybe a bit of the... special stock?"

"Oh, don't tempt me. You know Lucius can't resist." Narcissa said, "And I can't either."

* * *

Hadrian Eveningshade hauled his trunk into a carriage not more than five minutes before another occupant had taken residence there. The boy before him looked worn out, as if he'd just gone through a hounding. His hair was a bright orange, and his frame was thin, tall, and gangly.

 _'Hummmm... Orange hair and bad clothes... can only be a Weasley. Only one in my year, Ron. He loves chess, and other than his sister Ginny, he's quite distant from his family.'_ Hadrian thought, smiling, _'Perfect.'_

"Oy, mate. Sorry about the awkward entrance, I just got away from a scolding for losin' my rat!" The boy said, "My name's Ron, by the way."

"Hadrian Eveningshade. But you can call me Harry." Harry responded, smiling widely as he shook the other boy's hand.

Ron took a seat opposite.

"Oh, well- wait. Eveningshade? Then you're- You're the boy who lived!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, "Can I- oh, well, don't mean to be rude or nothin', but can I see the scar?"

"Yeah, sure!"

Harry lifted his dark cherry bangs revealing the lightning shaped wound.

"Wicked!"

Ron observed the scar for a few more moments. He then leaned back into his seat, and stared out the window for a minute, an odd look on his face. The room grew silent in a second, before Harry decided to restart the conversation.

"You like chess? I've got a board here." Harry asked, pulling out a small, shrunken box.

The box, after being placed in the center, enlarged, sprouting legs as it grew, and turned into a table. The table opened up to reveal a chess board made of ivory and ebony, with pieces made of opal and jade.

"That's the most expensive set I've ever seen! It's a world champion series fold-able Wizard's Chess set, isn't it? Those cost in the range of 5000 galleons! Wicked." Ron exclaimed, nerding out over the chess set Harry had.

"Well, your correct on most parts. But this one cost 5553 galleons and three sickles exactly." Hadrian responded, laughing a bit, "So, you want to have a go for a round?"

"I'd be a bloody idiot to pass up the offer." Ron responded, smiling wickedly.

"Which side, then?"

"The side nearest, I don't care."

"Jade for me, then. You first. But be warned, I'm pretty skilled!" Harry stated, confident in his abilities.

* * *

Harry, as he found out, wasn't nearly as skilled as Ron. He got trounced. Twice.

 _'The boy's a strategy prodigy! He's brilliant... I'd wager he'd be one of the most skilled wizards of our generation... to bad his family's a bunch of Dumbledore drones, and don't have a galleon to their name that they can throw his way... he doesn't even have a proper wand...but that can be fixed.'_

Harry smiled a broad, genuine smile.

"You're amazing! Absolutely bloody brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, making Ron turn the same shade as Lilith's hair.

"Really? I- I never do get complimented. Being the youngest boy... get sandwiched between my sister and my older brothers... so, sorry I'm reacting off, mate. Look like some weirdo probably."

Alarm bells went off in Harry's head.

"Well that's ridiculous! A family should stick together always! Blood ties are of the highest importance; blood is, in many ways, the root of our magic, Ron. It's the root to the pureblood argument, in fact." Harry said, "Magic in bloodlines can _define_ an entire family. Just look at us; my hair and skin make me look like a teen-drama vampire, which is typical for Eveningshades; and your whole family has, and has had since their beginning, the same orange top! The Shafiqs all have that 'midnight sky' hair, pitch black with speckles of silver-white. Malfoys with their blue eyes, and bleach-blonde hair. The Crabbe forehead, the Goyle jaw, the Selwyn blue-sky hair, the Potter hair and eyes, etcetra, etcetra!"

Ron looked at Harry, eyes wide and mouth closed with rapt attention, though laughing on his comments about the Eveningshade look, which Ron actually found pretty cool.

"Most pureblood families, most magical families, have distinguishing features that, despite what modern muggle science dictates, continue to be passed on. _Blood **is** magic_... But magic isn't blood. The purebloods have had an increasing number of squibs and stillbirths coming from them." Harry ranted on, finally calming at the end.

"Yeah, 'cause they _inbreed_."

"They did, true, and it has cost them. But it can be _undone_ , and all with blood magic. Magic that, oh look, Dumbledore and his little gang of minions has left _banned_. His Wizengamot has continuously increased the punishment for blood magics, and vetoed any bill against it." Harry ranted.

"But Blood Magic is dangerous.." Ron rebutted.

"So is many other types of magic. Slugulus Erecto and Petrificus Totalus, when combined, cause a death most horrible. You vomit slugs, but are unable to move at all. You'd die choking on slime, or with a gut that explodes out, overfilled with the nasty things." Harry shot back, making Ron almost vomit at the image, "Magic is based on 90% _intent_ and 10% function."

Harry began to finally calm.

"My mum is trying to put in a bill to allow blood magic to be used to cleanse bloodlines of the sicknesses that have plagued them, and she may actually get it through this time. Numerous houses that once pledged almost _absolute obedience_ to Dumbledore have been turned over to the next generation; a generation that is much more willing to listen to logic and reason." Harry said, regaining his composure,"I want to be just like her when I grow up; a politician. How about you?"

Ron stared at the boy across from him, pondering first Harry's speech, and then his question.

"Well, I want to do potions, and start a business with them." Ron said, his eyes alight with determination, "My family, both the Weasleys and my mother's side, the Prewetts, were excellent potion makers. They near cornered the market, back in the past. I want to be just like that, I want my name to _mean_ something. You don't have that. You're a Potter, and an Eveningshade."

Harry's face darkened, and he began to look down at the floor.

"Names are everything, Ron. What you see in your name, you see in yourself. It's why Volemort never said her name," Harry began, turning to look Ron in the eyes, which widened at the mention of the late Dark Lady, "because she was afraid. Voldemort means 'Flight From Death,' which is exactly what she did. She flew and flew, but, and I say this as a descendant of the Peverells, no one out runs death. What you see in _your_ name, is who you are. Who else has your surname doesn't matter."

Harry beamed brightly at the wizard across from him.

"Which is why I'm so happy your determination to go beyond your family! To achieve everything _you_ can. I'm guessing, then, you wish to be in Slytherin?"

"WHAT!? Slytherin? Is it for my ambition?" Ron said, seeming to be somewhat upset.

"Huh? No, that whole 'bravery, ambition, knowledge, and loyalty is what the four houses stand for' thing is posh. What I meant was that Slytherin's Head of House is Eileen Snape, who is currently one of the best potioneers out there. And, Slytherin is looked for when looking for reliable and successful businessmen, so you're more likely to get loans and backers with it attached to your certificate. That, and the usually higher marks that Slytherin students have."

Ron looked wide eyed and contemplative for about the hundredth time this trip. Harry had really been an eye opener for him. But his face soon dropped.

"My family will kick me out if I was in Slytherin." Ron moaned, "I'm already the extra wheel, they'd throw me out like rubbish if I ended up a snake!"

Harry stayed silent for second, before responding.

"Family should always look out for eachother. They won't throw you out if you make a choice that isn't popular amongst _them_. But if they do, then they aren't your family!"

Ron looked back at Harry, and smiled sadly.

"Then they aren't my family, Harry."

Harry stared at the boy for a few seconds longer before sighing, a sad smile of his own on his face.

"Then count me a member of _your_ family, my new friend. I'll be by your side, no matter what!" Harry laughed, holding out his hand. Ron grasped it with his own, and shook firmly.

"Yeah... thanks, mate. You really- you really mean a lot." Ron responded, tearing up.

"Now... _know any magic tricks?"_ Harry whispered.

"Yeah, I know a few. Let me get my wand." Ron said, grabbing out an old wand, and waving it out. He cast Wingardium Leviosa on his rat, and then turned the thing yellow.

"Haha! Well bugger me, my custom spell actually turned Scabbers yellow!"

Alarm bells went off in Harry's head again, this time screaming 'Jackpot.'

" _CUSTOM SPELL?_ You cast a custom spell? Have you thought of being a spell maker? Most people take at least two years training to do that! It's a highly prestigious position if your skilled." Harry exclaimed.

Now, he himself had made a few custom spells, but it was exactly this that made him appreciate just how talented the boy across from him was.

"I planned to use it to make new types of potion! I want to beat my ancestor's record for most new and useful ones designed and created! His record is 39, with one of them being the basis for the _Wolfsbane_ potion!" Ron practically screamed, totally nerding out, "Potions are like magic, but more permanent and powerful! They can do things that magic couldn't do, in a time magic couldn't possibly beat! And, to me, it all just clicks! This with that, that with this; move after move, just like chess."

Ron continued on for about three more minutes solid on why potions were great, finally ending after explaining the uses of Bloodwood sap.

"Well, that, and my wand is rubbish. A hand me down. So magic based classes are practically assured to be drags!" He moaned out.

Harry seemed impressed, and lost in thought on how to fully bring this boy into his fold. He had already begun, but it would take some time. He wasn't a female, which made it more difficult, as he couldn't use _those_ magics. And though that _could_ be changed, he didn't want to go that route.

"Your wand is a hand me down? Oh, no. That just won't do." Harry said, reaching into his trunk and pulling out one of his back-up wands, "Here, take this one. I have two other back-ups."

Ron slowly grabbed the wand, an 11 and 1/2 inch, Edelwood wand, with a phoenix feather core. While Edelwood had a dark reputation, it was also common for potion makers, due to Edelwood sap's use as a potion base to many healing droughts, which was only boosted by the phoenix feather core, though Ron didn't know it.

"What core and wood?" Ron asked.

"Edelwood, pheonix feather core. Nice potioneer's wand. Why I picked it out from my three." Harry responded.

"Thanks, you saved my arse. I'd be a dead man without you." Ron thanked, "What's your wand?"

Harry pulled out his wand, and raised it in front of his smiling face.

"Ebony, 13 and 2/3 inches, with Thestral and Veela hair." Harry said, before laughing, "And yes, I know it sounds evil, but it really makes sense. Ebony is good for protection against the dark, and thestrals are only seen by those touched by death. Veela... well I have no clue there. The 13 and 2/3, or literally 13. _666_ , inch length is coincidence; though I love bragging about it!"

The truth was, that this whole statement was _nearly_ dead on truthful. Ebony was good for protecting from and _sending_ dark curses, and the Veela most likely had to do with his delving into the love magics; a particularly illegal and immoral brand of soul magics created to make and control sex slaves in the olden times. And though he wouldn't use them yet, as he promised not until his third year _minimum,_ he had dabbled in them. The length was a hilarious coincidence, that he really did love to mention. He was still an eleven year old, after all.

Ron thought all of that was funny.

"Must suck to have such an unfortunate wand preference! Get mocked for it?"

"Yeah, a few times. _None of them made it out alive, though_."

Harry's face darkened, as Ron blanched, but Ron lightened up as Harry began to laugh.

"Ohohohoh! Look at your face, mate! Looked like you woke up to a troll in your closet!" Harry shouted, "You should've-"

Harry was interrupted, however, by two girls standing in the doorway.

"Um, excuse me, I'm Hermione... and this is Nancy. Have you, perchance, seen Nancy's toad?" One girl, with long, curly hair and vibrant purple eyes stated.

"Yes, um, well, Trevors, my toad that is, he... uh... escaped again and-" The other girl, Nancy, began.

[Accio Trevors!]

A few thumps and a ribbit later, and the toad was back in Nancy's hands.

"Oh, thank you so much! That was so impressive!" The girl said, "I'm Nancy Longbottom, and this is Hermione... um..."

"LeStrange."

The mood turned tense in an instant. A silence filled the room as Nancy's eyes widened with slight terror.

"You- you-" Nancy began to stutter, seeing the child of her parent's torturer.

Harry quickly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey,calm down. You're making the poor girl cry! Names are a telling of what we are, and not who we are!"

Hermione shrunk down into a ball, curling up and sobbing. It looked like she was having a total breakdown.

"She's right though! I'm a monster. I take medicine everyday to stop it, but I know underneath, I'm a killer. I sliced my cat up when I was seven, just because it scratched me. I told my adoptive parents back then, that the cat had been like that when I found it in the lawn. They blamed the neighbors." Hermione choked on her sobs, continuing after a second, "It took me killing the dog in front of them. The bloody dog. A knife to it's stupid, barking head. They left me for adoption after that, couldn't take care of a psycho. The government had to find a place to put me, and chose a place with other 'troubled children.' Helped a bit, actually. They got me medicine. But she's there. Under my skin; in my mind. She's waiting, and I feel it. I'm a monster. I'm a monster. A killer."

Some of the other nearby cabins closed their sound charmed doors, and Harry couldn't blame them. Though he found this situation perfect, a total exploit to get her on his side, (No meds, she goes pycho. Easy peazy. He'd remember that for later), he also realized just how messed up this sounded.

"You aren't a monster, Hermione. Psychopathy and sociopathy run in families. It's true that you have some bad blood, but I repeat myself again that what you are isn't who you are. You've persevered through trauma most could never hope to get through. Your a much stronger girl than most." Harry said calmly, rubbing her hand.

Hermione blushed brightly, and Nancy looked in reverence towards him, before blushing as well.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Nancy replied.

"No, I needed that. And I get that, what with your parents and all..." Hermione stated as she sat next to Harry.

Nancy took her seat next to Ron.

"I'd say get dressed, but it seems you, as well as us, have already gotten fully prepared." Hermione said, sheepishly trying to reignite the conversation between the four of them, but failing.

They sat in silence for a moment more, each taking a breather from that hectic moment. Harry sighed deeply, though, and broke the silence..

"I brought four Chocolate Frogs with me, so we can all have those." Harry reached into his trunk, and pulled out the four said fudgy amphibians, "One for each. Chocolate calms the nerves. How about we get to know eachother while we're at it! What house are you aiming for? Me and Ron want to be in Slytherin."

"Well, I'm aiming for Gryffindor. My grandmum said I should try transfiguration, as she was excellent in that subject. I would be fine with Hufflepuff, though, as I love herbology and horticulture." Nancy replied.

"I would like to stay with you, so Slytherin it is. I also want to pursue a psychology career, as it's obviously a deeply personal subject for me. Slytherin has had some great psychologists come out of it." Hermione said, still red eyed and sniffling.

Harry beamed.

 _'Even easier to make you fall, being so close. And no one will mind another "crazy Slytherin" roaming about. I'll have to break Nancy first, though..._ _'_

"Oh, how nice! I do think you'll do well." Harry said, the whistle announcing the end of the line blowing in the background, "Haha, but it looks like this is my stop! I do hope to see you around!"

The four of them chuckled softly as they gathered their things, and walked briskly towards their future.


	3. The Sorting

**A/N: I want to open this with a statement on the sorting hat, as it's obviously OOC. Is this a glaring issue? No. But, I thought I'd warn you. Also, because I'm not a sicko, there will be nothing romance wise, _truly_ romance wise, until the Third Year.**

 **Next thing: I got a question as to how Lilith hid the fact she was both Lily _and_ Lilith. Well, it will be fully revealed when Harry and her confront Sirius, also in Year Three (Y3 will be the start of the real action, TBH, so stay tuned for that), but if you want a simple answer now: Polyjuice, Petunia, and Imperius. You decide _exactly_ how.**

 **Anyway, Please review and favourite.**

 **Unless you hate it.**

 **Then don't read it, I guess. I don't know.**

 **EDIT: Changed some spelling and word deletion errors.**

* * *

"Abbot, Hannah!" McGonagall shouted.

Harry ignored the rest of the speaking and shouts, as it mattered very little. They were all in the same school, so finding any particular person wouldn't be too hard. Houses only mattered for the people he wanted closest, which for now was Ronald Weasley and Hermione LeStrange. They were his first targets, and he wanted to have them firmly in his circle of friends by the coming of the Winter Solstice. Then he could work on forging the first two members of his inner circle, and possibly his second lover.

"So, anything occupying your mind?" Hermione whispered to Harry, worry and apprehension in her voice.

"Hmm, well, I'm worried that my name is still counted as being Potter. I barely know more than scrambled memories of my father, and the only thing he left me was a legacy of being the biggest prankster in Hogwarts history, if you discount Peeves." Harry responded in a jolly, hushed tone.

"Ohh, I read about him. Peeves, that is, not your father. Though, I did read a bit on the history of House Potter, Eveningshade, and Gaunt." Hermione said, "Apparently, all three houses have quite the history, going back to-"

"The Brothers Peverell, yes. Or, the Siblings Peverell. Cadmus's child took the name of Peverell, despite Antioch being older, which is odd. Many historians, my mum included, think that Antioch was a woman. It explains the female dominance within House Eveningshade, and why they changed the name instead of keeping Peverell. Potter comes from a warping of Peverell, which at the time would be pronounced more as Pe'erl. Potter was chosen as it sounded similar, being pronounced without the T's, like pah'er. It also had a relation to death, seeing as a 'Potter's Field' was the name for an unmarked cemetery." Harry interrupted and explained.

"Bloody hell, you know a lot." Ron commented, chuckling at Harry, who had jokingly taken a superman stance and a proud look once he received the comment, causing onlookers to explode into laughter.

"Eveningshade, Hadrian!" McGonagall called, and Harry turned to meet her gaze, cutting his conversation short.

"Alright, well, hope to see you in Slytherin! Or, where ever you end up!" Harry said, walking up to the Sorting Hat.

McGonagall smiled at him as he took a seat, and happily placed the hat on his head.

"Nice to see you again, Harry." She said as she plopped the old cap over his eyes.

 _ **"Oh my, what do we- DEAR MERLIN!"**_ The Sorting Hat screamed in Harry's head, bringing an outwardly innocent looking smile to the boy's face, _**"You're- Oh, you are demented. Your mind is like a toxic pool of deceit and wickedness, cunning and villainy, and dreams of reaping the world of it's love and hope. There's only one house for a... thing... like you. One that will call you out on your wickedness! GRY-UGHH!"**_

Harry wasn't having any of that. This hat wasn't getting an ounce of revenge. He choked the hat, gripping at its very _magic:_ a complex mix of Arithmancy, Soul Magic, Blood Magic, and Ancient Runes; with Gaelic, Greek, and Norse variants of said Runes covering most of the interior. The hat quickly changed from its angry tune when it realized its millennia-long life was almost brought to an end.

 _ **"Did I say Gryffindor? HA! HA! HA! My bad, Mr. Eveningshade! Of course, what I meant was,"**_ The Sorting Hat quickly corrected in Harry's head, before shouting out loud, **"SLYTHERIN!"**

Loud applause filled the room, as the Slytherin table cheered on it's newest member. A set of magical fireworks came from the wand of an older member, spelling out the phrase "Chosen One Chosen For Slytherin!" The theatrics quickly halted, however, as the headmaster and head of house intervened.

"QUIET! Calm down, everyone. We all know that a new house member is an exciting prospect, especially one of young Hadrian's sort, but we must all celebrate on our own times. We still have many friendly and newcoming faces to welcome, and it would be best not to use all our bravado on one student." Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye, and sparkle on his... eccentric... robe.

Eileen Snape smiled wickedly at Hadrian, approaching him immediately.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Mr. _Eveningshade_." She said, clearly putting a negative emphasis on his name, her hatred of anything to do with Lily shining through even after all these years.

Harry, however, simply gave her a wide smile.

"Thank you, Professor Snape! Many people end up calling me Potter... but I barely knew my father... anywho, thank you for paying attention to my naming choices! I bet we'll get along splendidly!" Harry said, holding out his hand.

Eileen looked shocked for a second, before scowling again, and shaking his hand.

 _'Just wait. In a few years, I'll have you on your knees begging to be **Mrs.** Eveningshade as I plow every one of your bloody holes. Stupid jealous cunt.'_ Harry said internally, keeping his external appearance one of total respect and childhood joy.

He took a seat next to a larger looking girl, who he knew was the youngest child and only female of the four children of the Crabbe family. And also one of the only girls Harry was gonna hate having to sleep with, considering she was built like a champion bull. Oh, the things he would do for power.

He smiled at the girl, who blushed a brilliant shade of red, covering her platter sized face with her hands.

"LeStrange, Hermione!"

Everyone at the Slytherin table looked over. The LeStrange heir hadn't been seen in nearly a decade! For her to be hear now... it was quite the happy moment for many of the purebloods, to know that one of the older families hadn't been totally wiped out. The sorting didn't take long.

 **"SLYTHERIN!"** The Sorting Hat had shouted after only five seconds, deciding the instant the Hermione told it that she wanted to be with her best friend Harry. It wasn't going to even _think_ about going against someone who was supposedly _best friends_ with that monster, and a member of a family like _LeStrange_.

It was now an even happier moment for the Slytherins, though not unexpected. LeStrange had been a _long_ time Slytherin family. Everyone was cheering regardless, and many of the boys were calling her over to sit by them. Hermione, however, took a seat next to Harry, instantly starting a bit of relationship gossip. As a result, however, Hermione didn't speak to Harry at all, which he respected, and did so in kind.

A few more people were sorted; Draconica Malfoy, Theodore and Electra Nott, and Inaya Shafiq being the most prominent up til now. Well, most prominent to Harry.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

The Slytherins barely batted an eye at Ron. I mean, the Weasleys had _always_ been Gryffindors, no exceptions. Only one _birth_ member in 'recent history' had been in a different house, Ravenclaw, and that had been in the 1700's! His siblings all had grins, and the Gryffindor members were preparing for a celebration.

And then it happened.

 **"SLYTHERIN!"**

* * *

Ronald walked up to the stool, smiling at McGonagall.

"Can't wait to to see you in my house. I'd say 'if you are', but, we all know the Weasleys are all the same when it comes to this." She whispered, her tone warm and joyous, but her words striking a sour chord with the boy.

 _'The Weasleys are all the same...'_

The words echoed in his head, bouncing like wrecking balls through his mind. Time seemed to slow each time the words echoed, and Ron soon found himself on the verge of screaming. He hated being called _the same_. It had always been that way. He was the last boy; not important like his eldest brothers, who were possible heirs; not interesting like the twins; and not mummy's precious little girl like Ginny. He was last to eat, last to choose, last to _everything_. He always had the hand-me-downs, and always got the short end of the stick. If he went somewhere he was known as, undoubtedly, 'just another Weasley.' Some people, like McGonagall, even said it like it was a _good thing!_ How was being the same as numerous others before you a good thing! He wanted to be different, he wanted to be _better_!

He sat on the stool, already upset and flustered.

 _ **"Ah another-"**_

 _"If you say 'another Weasley' one bloody time, I'll turn you into my toilet paper!"_ Ronald thought _very_ aggressively.

 _ **"Well, how rude! Well, seeing who you are, there can only be one house for you. The house of your siblings, your parents, and your relatives before you. House Gry-"**_ The Sorting Hat attempted to say, being interrupted again.

 _"I want to be in Slytherin."_ Ron thought in a determined tone _, "I want to restore the Weasley and Prewett names to the top of the potioneering industry. I want to make those who hear them think of 'success' and 'determination', and not 'they breed quick, and they're all the_ **bloody same _!'_** _"_

 _ **"Oh, well, are you sure? I believe having family for support could get you far. Afterall, you want the name to be respected, then start with those who bare it."**_ The Sorting Hat questioned.

 _"Tried it. They don't help the 'runt.' And they don't fucking change, the bunch of twats."_ Ron rebutted, _"And, I want to be with my friend Harry Eveningshade. He's been a life saver, and-"_

 _ **"HADRIAN EVENINGSHADE? Oh, well, why didn't you say you were his friend? Couldn't take any of his friends away! Haha!"**_ The Sorting Hat said frantically and nervously, surprising Ron.

Why did the hat seem so... _afraid?_... of Harry? Maybe it was the family history.

 _ **"Only one house for friends of him, and you're no exception!"**_ The Hat continued, **"SLYTHERIN!"**

The crowd went, well, silent. All of Gryffindor and Slytherin stared at him, and his siblings looked a mix of horrified, betrayed, and shocked.

Percy just stood scowling, while Fred had his mouth agape in absolute shock. George dropped the confetti popper he had in his hand, and stared with a terrified look as the thing went off, blasting red, gold, and orange 'disappearing confetti' all over the floor. McGonagall looked flabbergasted, with a slight hint of betrayal.

Then there was clapping. Ron looked over to see who it was, only to find that it was his two new friends, Harry and Hermione. They both looked joyous, and soon the same look spread to the other Slytherins, who began to cheer riotously.

Taking Harry had been mildly expected, even if Gryffindor had held on to some hopes, as House Eveningshade had some... _Slytherin-esque_ beliefs. But having a Weasley was _unbelievable_. It was such a giant middle finger to their rivals, that there was no way they'd completely recover from it for _years_.

Ron walked over to the table and took the seat next to Harry, before being stormed by Slytherins wanting to know why he didn't go with his family tradition.

"Because they're stupid twats with idiotic and idealistic beliefs, and I want to go somewhere other than a nowhere position in the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I want to give my name the _pride_ it held before, and reclaim the respect they had as the leading potioneers." Ron responded to their questions, receiving approving nods from numerous students, "And because I wanted to shove it in McGonagalls face for calling us 'all the same.' I hate that."

Harry smiled at him and patted his back.

"Family may be similar in appearance, but no one is similar in soul. Which's, by the way, why Soul Magic is so dangerous; but it's also why you can never be called the same as anyone else. You're you Ron, and I'm proud to call you my best mate!" Harry said, giving a large smile to the rest of his house, and receiving some back. As well as a knowing look from Draconica, who already knew what he was doing.

Why? Well, someone had to be the test subject for all of his control spells and rituals. You see, during an overseas meeting, her parents had requested that she stay with the Eveningshades. While she was there, she made the mistake of walking in on them planning, and was promptly afterwards pinned and, well, enslaved. Of course, she didn't care. Afterall, she 'wasn't _really_ enslaved', Harry was just 'always right in her opinion'! And ridiculously sexy. Though, so was she, somewhat.

Despite her age, her rear and breasts were already well off, and there was no doubt that she would eventually have the most... shapely body in the school. That had really been a mistake on Lilith's part. WAY to much emphasis on that. Too much attention. Too much personality warping. It made her less useful.

The changes had all been after-effects of the rituals she went through in order to be bound. There was a lot more done than necessary, but neither Lilith nor Harry could afford to have any semblance of the truth get out. So, they took Draconica's loyalty, body, magic, mind, soul, pride, and legacy. She bowed before Harry, would do anything for him regardless of how others thought, and had begged that he allow her to do an aging ritual in order to impregnate her on around _six_ separate occasions. It was getting annoying, though mostly because he, too, wanted to do just that. His mum, however, strongly disagreed with that notion. Not just because it was incredibly bad looking, but also because it was ridiculously dangerous for them and the child.

 _'Come one, Hadrian, you have to hold out til third year. Just three more years.'_ Harry chanted to himself, trying to not go full mast, _'Get to third, and you can begin taking any woman you like, so long as you don't get caught.'_

 _'Though~'_ Draconica said in his mind, _'You could cheat **just** a little bit, and take me in the Slytherin dorms? Ple~ase?'_

Harry sighed out loud, he was so done with this.

 _'I said no. Do you even listen to my orders?'_ Harry thought, Draconica paling at the thought.

She remained silent for the rest of the meal, hoping her lord wasn't _too_ mad.

After all, if she was good up til its date, she got to take him first.

And she _really, **really**_ wanted first dibs on that.


	4. Filler Chapter and Bonus Lemon

**A/N:**

 **Remember when I said this would be out by Wednesday?**

 **Ha, didn't work.**

 **So, anyway, sorry. And also sorry that the actual chapter (and not the bonus lemon) is quite short. So, when I said this would be out Wednesday, I though I had some simple head cold.**

 **Nope.**

 **I had** **viral meningitis. And it sucked. A lot.**

 **Anyway, here's the story.**

* * *

"Ms. Eveningshade?" An elderly voice called from behind Lilith as she exited the Wizengamot, "May I have a word with you, my dear girl?"

She sighed audibly, before she turned to face the man. He was aging, that much was quite obvious, but there was a youthful twinkle in his eye and a skip in his step still. Usually.

Right not, he looked every bit of his age. His face sagged, his eyes seemed distant and greyed, and his bright robes were not quite as exuberant.

"What is it, Mister Dumbledore?" She said back in a peeved but professional manner, "I have a child to look after back at home, so I must be heading out quickly."

The man simply nodded as he took a few steps closer, and straightened his back.

"I shall be, most unfortunately, blunt with you. I-... I do not trust you in your intentions for young Harry. I have a quite urging feeling that you have a more sinister plot. And i must apologize for any... misgivings I have towards the subject." The old wizard said solemnly, his admittance striking a cord with Lilith, and getting her to wonder what the man had planned with this, "I simply believe... I simply _believed_... that Mrs. Potter's son would be better placed with his Aunt. Culturally, I think that they are much closer to the Potters."

Lilith chuckled.

"We all make _mistakes_ , Dumbledore. We all hold grudges, and have gut feelings." She said with a falsely happy tone, "We simply... _learn from them_ , and _move on_. I don't truly hate you for trying to give my sister's son a happy life. But your bringing up of the subject, just months after the original decision, was in poor taste."

Lilith paused, before fully turning towards the elderly man. Her face was tilted upwards, and her eyes were slightly red from crying. Albeit, fake crying, but Dumbledore didn't know.

"You are quite justified in your suspicion. My way of raising a child has no care for preserving his parents lifestyle. He is my child in all senses now, in my mind, and he will be raised as such." Lilith spoke with peeved fervor, "He deserves a life without the drag of sadness that comes with orphan-hood. He doesn't need to constantly question 'What would life be like with my _real_ parents?' It would harm him mentally. He deserves a loving _mother_ who treats him like a _son_ , not some caregiver who simply watches him like a burden."

Dumbledore was caught in shock, as if the woman before him had backhanded him. How could he have been so _careless?_ He never thought of that part. He didn't know what- No. That was a lie. He knew Petunia, and he knew that she wouldn't treat Harry as her own. He had been a fool. Even if Harry wasn't like his parents, he would at least be loved where he was. And that should always take precedence.

The crimson haired woman, noticing the old man's look of remorse, spun on her feet, before warping off through one of the floo stations, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts.

 _'I so desperately hope my feelings are off, just as they were with young Mr. Black.'_ Dumbledore thought, as he too walked towards a floo station, _'This time, though, I wish the error on my part be a failure to notices love, and not a failure to notice hatred. Truly, I hope young Harry turns out fine. And happy.'_

 _Eveningshade_

The trip through Hogwarts was neither exciting or boring. It was an informational walkthrough detailing the layout of the school and giving various facts about each location. So far, Hadrian had learned little of actual use except the places where various groups were likely to meet up, which could be _incredibly_ useful if he ever (or rather, when he ever) wanted to do a bit of snooping.

What he had learned from his own senses, however, proved to be much more useful. Secret passageways, and an interesting room with millions upon millions of soul and blood fueled, arithmantically placed ancient runes, including some written in Parseltongue, were condensed in an area somewhere between the space of a closet and a full sized football stadium. Now, what made this most interesting was the last part; the size manipulation was not consistent, but rather based on _intent_ and imagination. It was like a room constructed purely of magicks, and made to be a 'dream room' of some sorts. Hadrian made a note to investigate that later, maybe after the debacle over the mysterious item kept within Hogwarts.

Hadrian knew it was, with 99% likelihood, the Philosopher's Stone. It made sense, as Dumbledore had worked with the creator of said stone, Mr. Nicholas Flamel. That, and the fact that it could be used to revive Voldemort, which, would be bad for everyone. Including Hadrian.

Losing your wife because of the mistake of an old man would be the making of a pretty bad day. So he intended to keep Quirrel, who obviously held a soul fragment within him, (and who else but Ms. Riddle would fragment their soul), away from that item at _all costs_. Even revealing himself would come before letting Quirrel, and thus Voldemort, near that stone.

If Voldemort came back early, the plan that his mother had come up with would come completely apart. He couldn't fail his mother, as Lilith was not one to forgive people for mistakes. At all. He'd most likely live through her punishment, but it would be torturous.

However, if he was able to actually retrieve the Philosopher's Stone, then he knew he'd be greatly rewarded. Most likely with her special chocolate chip cookies! I mean, he _was_ still an eleven year old. He could like cookies! In fact, nobody is too old for sweets.

"So this concludes the tour of Hogwarts!" A very cheerful older student, who Harry recognized as one of the older Crabbe brothers, "I hope we all get along this year!"

The boy was of a larger set, with wide shoulders and a long torso. His hands, however, never stopped moving. Hadrian knew that, unlike his two brothers, he had been placed in House Slytherin. Hadrian also knew that it was most likely due to his ambition to become a tailor. This also, most likely, accounted for his fidgeting hands.

"Every year..." The girl next to the Crabbe boy moaned, "You say it every year. Even before you were a prefect! Can you stop with that bubbly nonsense of the first day!"

The girl had long, greenish hair, and stood with a light slump. Her face was not traditionally ugly, but it had an odd symmetry to it, which threw it all off. Maybe it was her constant scowl? Hadrian didn't know, but he did know she was from a minor house, which had descended from Greengrass. A house titled Cutwheat or something. He had forgotten that, somewhat embarrassing to himself.

"Whatever, Sy, you know you like me!" The larger boy joked, earning a stinging hex in return, "OUCH! Hey!"

"Don't call me Sy! I'm Aspasia Scythewheat!" She said, "I may not come from some high and mighty house like yours, but at least my brother didn't go running off with another man, Paralus!"

 _'Ah, that was the name.'_ Harry thought.

Paralus flinched at her tone, and had a sharp intake of breath at the mention of his brother. It had been _really_ messy when that incident had occurred, especially since the brother mentioned was the, now former, heir of House Crabbe.

"Please don't bring up Xipathus. Please." Paralus asked her, genuine concern in his voice, "I don't want this to devolve into a debate on that topic, especially not on the first day."

 _'Okay, remember this if your blackmailing him later. Everyone seems to know of the incident now, even though it hasn't gone public. Too bad for me, if I ever needed to blackmail him.'_ Harry thought as he was escorted into his dorm room along with the other, still awkward feeling, students. The mood had really been killed by the argument.

Hadrian's room was simple, and he took no time to look around. He quickly sorted his stuff out, before locking the boxes with about thirteen thousand (or maybe just thirteen) different spells and enchantments.

"That should do." He said in a whisper.

He sighed as he stood up. Supper was in a half hour, but he was much too tired to interact with anyone.

"Since I know you're hiding there, can you tell everyone that i went to bed early?" Hadrian asked as a giggling Draconica Malfoy walked out from her hiding spot.

"Oh deary me , you found me out!" Draconica said, still giggling uncontrollably.

Hadrian just sighed again.

"Let me guess: you were nude, and now you're sitting down, spreading your legs out so I can 'see the goods', and hoping this will work, despite it not working the past four times you've attempted." Hadrian said, Draconica sadly moaning in response.

Hadrian heard the sound of clothes rustling behind him, and only turned when it stopped.

Only to get a face full of Draconica's junk.

And sigh again.

She had put her dress on but had lifted it up, revealing her, well, panty-less bottom. Her head was turned to the side, and bright red.

"Shag me, Hadrian!" She said bashfully.

He just facepalmed.

"Put the panties on, Draci. You know what the rule is."

She was disappointed, as evidenced by her grumbling, but she obeyed this time. He finally looked up at her, noticing the tears in her eyes, and then rubbing his own eyes. This was gonna be a long night.

"Okay, Draci, I'll but some magic barriers up so you can sleep with me tonight, but you have to go to dinner, and tell everyone I'll be going to sleep early." He said with her whooping in response to his words.

She quickly rushed off to supper, wanting it to be over as quickly as possible. Hadrian simply lumbered over to the girls dorm, snuck in, and enchanted a pillow to look like Draconica, before wandering off back to his own bed and falling to sleep, hoping that his second day at Hogwarts would go just as well as this one had. Smiling even as his little lover climbed in, completely nude, and snuggled up to him.

Indeed, it was a good night for both of them.

* * *

 **AFTERTHOUGHTS:**

 **Okay! So that was a whole lot of nothing! And Filler! Hooray! Well, except for the meeting between Lilith and Dumbledore. And the introduction of a few side characters.**

 **So, yeah. Sorry.**

 **In response to this, I have a bonus Lemon. Though, not set in the same universe as Eveningshade.**

 **ENJOY!**

Harry Potter was not in a good place. He had just run through a maze of horrors, where he was almost killed multiple times, before reaching the end and grabbing the Triwizard Trophy with Cedric, only to end up in a graveyard with a Dark Lord and a fanatical, traitorous rat.

 _Then_ said rat ties him, with odd grace, to a tombstone statue. Before, of course, doing the same, though with much more aggression and roughness, to Cedric.

"Are they here?" A sickly voice called from over near a bubbling cauldron.

"Yes, my Lord." Peter Pettigrew responded, picking up a bundle of rags and pointing it at his two captives, "Both him, and a... extra friend."

The bundle let out a few quick grunts that Harry thought _might_ have been a laugh.

"Bring me close!" The bundle, who Harry knew was some form of Voldemort, said with glee.

The man brought the bundle closer to Harry, positioning the opening of it towards him.

"I have one question, Potter, and I ask it quite civilly: have you ever _thought_ of using dark magic? Ever thought people deserved it?" Voldemort asked, his face twisting into what may have been a smile.

The question took Harry by surprise. He had been expecting many things, but that question... not really. Well, not completely. He had expected something along the lines of if he'd join Voldemort, or if he would turn dark, but not if he had thought about. His face scrunched as he realized that he had indeed thought of it. Many times. Especially at his Aunt and Uncle's house. It would be so _easy_ to kill them all and be done with the stupid muggles. He even dreamed of doing it a couple times.

"That was all the answer I need." The Dark Lord said, "We'll be going with Plan B, Peter."

The rat smiled as he walked away from the very confused Potter heir. He placed the bundle in his arms down on a chair near the cauldron, before he began some sort of ritual.

"Bones of the mother, unknowingly taken, you will revive your child!" Peter shouted, dumping some white powder into the cauldron, with it emitting a bright orange puff of smoke immediately afterwards.

He stirred the mixture for a few moments, before going and getting another item.

"Blood of the killer, unwantedly stolen, you will revive your murdered foe!" He screamed, before his voice turned to a whisper, "Sorry, Lily, my old friend. This time, though, Harry can be happy."

He poured a vial of dark cherry, viscous liquid into the cauldron, turning the mixture a crimson colour as it emitted a white puff of smoke. He then stirred it some more, before turning towards Harry.

"Hey, I have a simple request, Harry my d-dear boy," Peter whispered, "I need some blood, if you give it intentionally, it will make this much less painful, and it will alter the outcome of this ritual."

Harry was shocked for the second time by a dark disciples actions.

 _'Is Peter trying to sabotage Voldemort's ritual... how interesting. Well, if that's true.'_ Harry thought.

"Fine, here." He said, sticking out his finger.

"Thank you." Peter said, collecting a half vial of blood, his smile turning sympathetic, "You foolish boy."

The man walked away with sadness in his eyes as Harry's heart dropped.

 _'Oh bloody shite...'_

"Blood of the once-foe, willingly given, you shall revive your new love!" Peter shouted as he poured Harry's blood in, picking up the creepy baby Voldemort and dunking him in immediately afterwards.

 _'Once-foe? New Love? What the bloody hell?'_ Harry thought, watching as a giant cloud of black smoke rose from the now pink coloured potion.

The smoke soon condensed into a person's form; chest, arms, legs, and head taking shape in that order. But then, it took a _rapid_ turn for the weird. Breasts grew from the humanoid blob, and long black hair flowed down past its shoulders. A shapely arse took form, before luscious lips and gorgeous eyes came into place on its face.

The being that stood before Harry was not at all what he was expecting as a form of the most evil wizard of the modern era, if not the most evil of all time. But, he supposed, that could be the whole point. It was a good tactical advantage if your enemy did not know your looks.

Suddenly, Harry was broken from his musing by the soft sound of giggling.

"Oh, Harry, believe me when I say that this is not _just_ a tactical disguise." Lord, or rather, Lady Voldemort said, "Did you not hear the last line of the ritual? Hmm?"

He thought back for a moment, before he realized.

 _'No bloody way...'_

The evil... witch... smiled at the seventeen year old, a devious glint in her eyes.

"Oh, yes. It's exactly what you think it is, my darling." She said, walking over to him, her face inches from his own, "Now, kiss me, or I... enjoy your friend's screams."

He looked over at the now conscious Cedric, whose eyes were wide, and was mouthing something, though nothing came out. Harry sighed, before he puckered up. And then, when their lips touched, his mind went blank.

* * *

"Oh my, it seems it's time for the second half of the ritual to begin!" Voldemort said, giggling as Harry's eyes clouded over, and his mind and soul began to be rewritten, "Soon, my love, you'll be mine. A perfect little Dark Lord for this fine, young Dark Lady. How nice!"

Harry, of course didn't respond, as every one of his memories, along with his personality, were being altered. Harry's eyes suddenly closed, however, and his body stilled for a few minutes, before his eyes opened once more. This time, though, his emerald irises were gone, replaced with sickly, toxic, Avada Kedavra green orbs in a sea of black sclera. A wicked smile crossed Harry's face, as he stared at his former arch-nemesis.

"Hello there, beautiful." He said huskily, "What's a dark little princess like you doing in a dingy old graveyard like this, hmm?"

Voldemort chuckled at that, and quickly undid his bindings. He rubbed the spots where the rope had been moments before, and then turned to embrace his old foe. He kissed her passionately, deepening it after a few seconds, with her letting him have total dominance. She was simply happy to finally feel emotions and sensations like lust, love, and pleasure. Happy to finally feel some sort of gender identity after so long as a formless creature, and before that, an asexual... thing.

He squeezed her breasts, and she moaned into his kiss, before slipping her hands down to his pants' zipper.

The moment wasn't meant to last however, as, in Voldemort's distraction, Cedric had broken out of the silencing charm she put on him.

"Harry! What the bloody hell are you doing! Get away from her!" The annoyance screeched.

Harry sighed as he realized that he was going to have to postpone his previous line of action in order to silence the git.

"Shut up, Diggory." He said casually, still standing next to his new lover, "I know what I'm doing."

A wicked smile crossed his face as he said that, turning Cedric's blood cold.

"Believe me, I know what I'm doing."

At that, he took a big handful of Voldemort's supple arse as gave it a good grab. She blushed slightly, and bit her lip in ecstasy. Cedric didn't know what to do. I mean, what _could_ you do when your saviour suddenly turned evil and fell in love with Public Enemy Number 1? Cry, I guess.

And that's exactly what he did.

"Oh, fucking hell. That's it!" Harry said, drawing his wand, " **CRUCIO!** "

The torture curse wracked through the young man, turning him into a screaming mess.

" **CRUCIO!** "

Cedric screamed even louder, this time pissing himself.

" _ **CRUCIO!**_ "

At this point the Diggory boy's voice gave out, along with his sanity. And his bowels.

"Ugh! What a mess." Harry said, clearly disgusted and displeased.

"Indeed, love, indeed." Voldemort said with equal disgust, "Why don't you... dispose of it?"

An evil smile crossed the once golden boy's face.

"Yes, I think I shall." Harry said, raising his wand once more, " **Avada Kedavra!** "

The green bolt struck the Diggory heir, killing him instantly. Harry then vanished the corpse, and the feces and urine it had left behind.

"Now, where were we?" Voldemort whispered sensually, giggling as she pressed her ample bosom against Harry's chest, "Shagging me, I believe?"

Harry grinned even wider than before, scooping her up into her arms. She let out a short squeal of surprise as he did so, but quickly realized what he was doing, and allowed him to take her into the old Riddle manor. He carried her up the stairs, and then into the main bedroom. He layed her out on the bed, then, before quickly taking his clothes off.

She was already nude, as she hadn't gotten anything on after her revival, and Harry had gotten a _real good look_ at what she was packing. And believe me, it was _sweet_. Now, however, she got to get a look at Harry.

He wasn't that bad. And by that, I mean he was _fucking fantastic_! What a monster! Good length, good girth, and good shape. A perfect trifecta. Add that to the toned abs and, while not the largest, still quite shapely arms, and you had quite the sight for sore, Dark Lady eyes. Tammy was excited just looking at him.

"Tell me, love, _exactly_ what you want." The young man said huskily, grinning at his dark lover.

Voldemort smiled wickedly in return.

"I want you to fuck me silly, Hadrian James Potter. Shag me until I can't move! Do me so good I can never get off by myself again!" The Dark Lady replied, "I want to be a slutty, jizz-filled mess by the end of this! Make it hapPEEEEE-AAAHHHH!"

She didn't even get to finish before he inserted himself into her. His thrusts were mechanical and rough, but also quite well aimed. It was almost as if he knew every one of her weak spots. I mean, even she didn't know where they were, as her form was quite new, but he somehow did! She moaned on his girth, her pussy clenching down on him like a vise. She squirted aggressively, and he picked up his pace. At this point, any coherent thought left her head. Not that much had been there when Harry had started.

"Make meEeEeE cUuUuUummmm!" She moaned as she bounced on his dick, "I'm your little Dark Slut. An evil little cumwhore!"

Voldemort honestly didn't know where she got those lines from. Probably something instinctual. Maybe the instincts to please Harry were given through the ritual, as it was meant to make them eachother's 'perfect lover' or whatever. But she also really didn't care. Because she meant Every. Last. Word.

She was completely his now. Dedicated to servicing him just as much as he was to her. They were soul bound lovers, reveling in their first sexual experience, riding on the high that came with torturing and killing a some basically defenseless highschooler.

"God your a good shag!" Harry shouted, continuing to piston into her, "Thick arse, wide birthing-hips, huge breasts; you're every man's dream!"

Voldemort moaned in return to that, a sense of feminine pride filling her. She came again, this time more aggressive than the last.

"OhhHhhHhHh! YES! Make me pregnant, Harry! Dump your baby batter in me!" She screamed as he grunted, putting load after sticky load in her, "Yes, god, yes! Oh, I'm so happy. God, it feels so good to be your cumdump!"

They sat there breathing heavily, cuddling next to each other as they both basked in the afterglow of such a sweet round of sex.

"Wow. God, your a bed talker. And a screamer. I thought I was going to have blood coming out of my ears!" Harry said, smiling smugly.

Voldemort smacked him in a playful manner across the cheek.

"Don't mock a lady for enjoying a good shag with you! How uncivilized. Brute!" She bantered playfully.

Harry laughed at that, and finally got up. They still had a bunch of Deatheaters to warn, and, oh, what a surprise they were in for! Harry Potter, the once Saviour of Britain, now known as the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Fuck-The-Dark-Lady! What a _much_ better title! She knew some of her... more devoted followers were going to enjoy it even more, though. Especially five in particular. Though, one was in prison currently, so she'd have to wait.

They eventually got dressed again, and went back outside to the graveyard. Tammy walked over to the unconscious body of Peter, who had fainted after watching the torture of Cedric. She placed her wand against his mark, and no later than twenty seconds after, a large group of robed and masked figures appeared in the graveyard.

"Hello, my servants!' She said, each of the assembled looking confused, before they saw her eyes, "I see many of you are startled by my new form. Don't worry! I'm still, basically, the same powerful dark magician you pledged loyalty to. Just now, I have a new form, and a... new little lover."

Voldemort backed up towards Harry, before sticking her arse into his groin and grinding it into him. She moaned as she leaned back and caught his lips over her shoulder, only releasing him after a good ten seconds.

"Behold! My love, Dumbledore's fomer 'Golden Boy', new Dark Lord Harry Potter!"

Every one of them looked shocked and stunned. How could this happen? Why had _Harry Potter_ defected to the dark? It didn't matter though, as they soon began to cheer and applaud. Their victory was assured now!

Two members, however, stepped forward with a large grin clearly noticeable on one of their faces, despite Harry's inability to see either behind their cloaks and masks. The other, a woman in an oddly colourful mask, stood silently by the first's side.

"So, the new Dark Lord, huh? Harry, how bad of you! What will Dumbledore do when he realizes he has been betrayed!" A familiar voice said from behind their mask.

Harry's brows furrowed as he attempted to remember where he'd heard that voice before. He wracked his memories for it, but kept coming up just short. Voldemort smiled as she continued to grind him.

"Want a ride, Ms. Black?" Voldemort asked.

"Don't mind, " The figure said as she took off her disguise, "if I do!"

The person behind the mask was revealed to be a woman who looked as if she was in her early thirties, if not late twenties, despite the clear wear and tear from living a harsh life. Her long flowing black hair draped down to her shapely arse, and two strands had been let down in the front to almost go past her smaller, but still perky, breasts.

"Siria?" Harry asked, staring at his godmother in shock, "But- but-... _huh?_ "

The woman let out a barking laugh.

"Really? You thought I was innocent! Ha! They don't lock up innocents, unless they're mudbloods. Being framed for some crime or another." The Black heiress replied, "But those pieces of filth deserve it! They stole my James from me! James and I were betrothed, and in love, but then _Lily_ comes along and sweeps him away! I tried my best to drive her away; to make her hate us! But noooooo, he had to have the red-haired bitch!"

Siria stopped her rant as she stared into Harry's eyes, her own glimmering with love.

"But that's in the past! Now, you're here to take his place! Come to mommy, love, and then make _mommy_ **_cum_**!"

Siria's tongue rolled out of her mouth as she began to pant like a bitch in heat. Which, I guess she basically was...

Whatever.

Voldemort got off of Harry's groin after this, and immediately Siria ran towards him, sliding on her knees to end up with a nose in his groin. She took a deep sniff, inhaling his masculine scent. She breathed out in a sigh, before taking in another sniff, deeper than the last. She then rubbed her head into his thigh, spreading her own scent all over him.

Her panties, if she were wearing any, and tight yoga pants were already completely soaked, and her free hand was only adding to it.

"Oi! Get on with it, ya' old bitch!" The other figure said, pointing at the totally confused remaining Deatheaters, "I'm waiting, and they have nothing to do because your causing a huge distraction! Just start shagging already, bloody mutt!"

Siria growled, before sighing and beginning to take off her clothes. She stripped off her yoga pants, revealing her not-so-well-kept pussy. A large bush had grown from her neglect of the spot, and a particularly nasty smell wafted from it.

"God, woman, clean yourself before you come in my presence! No wonder James left you!" Harry said.

Siria blushed sheepishly, before casting a few spells to shave herself and get rid of the crusty scent.

"Sorry, I haven't been keeping up lately. So used to being in a damp cell all on my lonesom." She said, before getting on her hands and knees, her arse shaking in the air and her oddly long tongue rolling out of the side of her mouth as she began to pant.

Harry was just about to finally put it in and mess the bitch up when one of the, clearly intelligent, Deatheaters decided now would be a good time to ask a question.

"What should we do?" a man in the back of the group asked.

Voldemort sighed.

"Bugger off if you want none of this, and wait for an order!" She said, watching as all but one disapparated.

A blushing Lucius Malfoy stood in the middle of the graveyard looking at his feet.

"Lucius? What do you want? Enjoy a little show?" Voldemort said teasingly.

Lucius shook his head rapidly, clearly embarrassed looking.

"No. I want in." He said, his voice barely a peep, and his face bright red.

"Well, I know I'm only for Harry's use, and I doubt that -" Voldemort began.

"No. I want to- to- well, I'll show you." Lucius said as he took off his robes.

His naked body was scrawny, and his penis was barely a nub between his groin, his balls practically non-existant. He blushed, as he removed a pendant from around his neck. Instantly, a pair of breasts formed on his chest, and his hips jutted out. His arse began to plump up, and his lips puckered as he put on some bright pink lipstick. His features had always been feminine, but now, one would absolutely think he was a girl. His blush had increased, though this time there was a spark of desire in his eyes.

"Narcissa was a lesbian, you know. She was only forced to be with me, so she made me _this._ She made me so... pretty." Lucius said, "This is Lucy, my... beautiful form."

'Lucy' smiled at Harry and the other women, whose jaws had hit the floor at everything that had just happened. Well, all but the still cloaked one's jaws hit the floor. She just sighed, muttering 'Knew it.'

"What!?" Siria screamed, totally confused. Voldemort just stared, and Harry and the other woman were rendered speechless.

"C-come on, don't you find me pretty, too?" Lucy asked, their eyes twinkling as they stared at Harry.

The boy smiled in return, before finally thrusting into Siria, who moaned. He pistoned as he stared into the traps eyes, lust reflecting off of both them and his own.

"You're next." Harry said, Lucy moaning as he said it, "I want that tight little ass-pussy to be my new property! Narcissa will just have to learn to share. Or rethink her orientation and join you."

Lucy blushed as they turned around and spread their cheeks, showing the perfect vertical slit that was their butthole. It was clear that they played with it a lot, as it gaped open and closed. Lucy's blush deepened, at this point her whole face was covered in a crimson glow, and her tongue fell out of her mouth.

"Fuck me then, Daddy!" Lucy shouted, and Harry finally pulled out of Siria.

The Black heiress slumped to the floor in a jittering mess, cum dribbling from her tight hole, as she succumbed to her tiredness.

Harry walked over behind the 'Lord' of House Malfoy, positioning his enourmous member against the crossdresser's rectum.

"What did you want again?" He asked, Voldemort smiling at the sense of Deja Vu.

"Take your huge dick, and shove it so hard and fast in my tight sissy-pussy that I can't go back to anything else!" Lucy said, her tone one of absolute seriousness, "I want you to _make_ me your bitch, to turn me into a woman who only thinks of your cock. Who only _exists_ to please your cock. Make. _Me. **Yours**_."

Harry didn't need to hear more, (although, how one could say more is a mystery to me), and he pushed his girth into Lucy's butthole, spreading their tightness wide in order to take his huge dick. Malfoy moaned, and mumbled little, slutty nothings about how sexy Harry's cock was. Harry thrusted harder with each thing he heard, and eventually he picked up the gender-confused 'Lord' and began bobbing them up and down on his length.

"Oh fuck! My butthole feels so good! Better than dildos, better than Narcissa ever made me feel!" Lucy shouted, body hanging loose in Harry's arms, "I feel- I feel-..."

Harry grunted as he had what felt like the biggest nut in his life. It was like a firehose in Lucy's ass, draining what felt like gallons of cum into it.

"Oh sweet Morgan! I feel like a _real_ woman!" Lucy said, "Good lord, you made my butthole feel like a stormdrain for cum!"

Semen dribbled out of the newly-minted harem member's ass-pussy, puddling beneath their feet. Well, 'dribbled' and 'puddled' are really both understatements, it was more like it _torrented_ out of her tight rectum, _pooling_ beneath her feet. Okay, maybe not that much, but it seemed like it.

"How did I even do that?" Harry asked, "And how am I still up and ready?!"

Voldemort chuckled.

"May have added a little something to our post-coital drink." She said, "A little... perk-me-up!

Harry sighed, before a grin split across his face.

"Well, it's a good thing you did, cause it still looks like there's one slut left to go!" He said, turning to the still masked woman.

"Guess I'll get this over with." The Deatheater sighed, taking off her mask to reveal that she was none other than Nymphadora Tonks.

Harry wasn't even phased at this point, and he simply stared at her nonchalant expression.

"Well, here it goes." Nymphadora said as she took a bottle out of her pocket and downed it, her demeanor changing instantly.

"SHAG ME DADDY!" She screamed she strutted over to him, ripping off her clothes and slamming her pussy onto his length, "I've been such a _naughty_ girl! Punish me! Slap my arse!"

"HEY, HEY! Stop, this feels wrong!" harry said, causing everyone to look at him, "I mean, Nymphadora, you didn't even explain why you're here! And then, you're drugged. _And then_ , on top of _allllll_ _that_ , you want me to _hit_ you? You don't even _sound_ like Dora! Please, can we start from the top, I think I missed something!"

Nymphadora sighed.

"Firstly, the reason I'm here is because I'm a Deatheater, and i believe purebloods are superior. I am a pureblood afterall." The metamorphmagus said, "Oh, and call me Nymphadora. Whole name."

"No, you're not. You're a half-blood." Harry replied, "And also, last i checked, you hated your name!"

Nymphadora sighed _again_ , even louder than before.

"My father was actually a descendant of Grindelwald, blah blah, you and everyone were tricked. He's plotting a revenge on Dumbledore, blah blah blah. And last you checked I was some bubbly Dumbledore lackey going 'Wotcher, Harry! I suck Dumbledore's dick!' or whatever shite o' the week it was. So, you know, not completely reliable."

"Touche." Harry replied.

"And this isn't a drug, it's medication for my sanity. Don't take it, the magic genetic disease that runs in my family turns my into a psychotic wreck like my aunt Bellatrix, or your godmother Siria. Stupid curse." She said, grumbling a bit afterwards, "Now can we get on to the fucking cause right now I've been sitting with your penis in my vag for four minutes."

"Oh, yeah, sure." He said, beginning to piston in and out again, as she began to moan.

"Slap my big, fat, whore ass! Hit it, Harry!" Nymphadora moaned, Harry obliging her immediately.

The sound of his hand hitting her flesh echoed through the graveyard, and she moaned again even louder.

"Oh, fuck! Smack me again, show me I'm your bitch! Show me how manly you are!" Nymphadora said, forcing her ass to expand a bit, the new excess fat jiggling as he pounded into her.

He gave it a good thwack, and she moaned as her sex gripped him in a vise.

"Oh shite!" He screamed, before emptying himself into her, triggering her own climax.

The metamorph slumped over and joined her aunt in the dreaming realm, as Harrry fell onto his arse, panting heavily.

"God, I'm... so... tired." He said, slumping over and passing out.

Voldemort laughed at the display, as Lucius sauntered over.

"Hey, could you... uh, perform the same ritual you did, on me?" He asked, smiling.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment, before realizing.

"I want to be an actual woman, you see, and-"

"Say no more! I understand." Voldemort interrupted, "By the time lover-boy is up, you'll be a new person!"

The devious glint in Voldemort's eye shined even brighter, as she cackled wickedly into the night.

Things were really looking up for her.


	5. Of Potioneers, Friends, and Historians

**A/N: Woah! I'm back! After so long, the chapter I promised by the 27th has been delivered... half a month too late! That's okay, though, you still like me, right? Right?**

 **Well, sorry for those who desponded over the clearly joking 'lemon' in the last chapter. Especially (if you're still reading this) the guy who PM'ed me about how bad it was. Thanks for the... colourful view on that.**

 **Well, onwards, I say! Oh, and reviews over mistakes and hopeful improvements I can make would be nice. Thanks.**

 **PS: The OC in this chapter is important. And if you guess why, and PM me about it, I will send a shipment of fudge brownies to you.**

* * *

"Hey come on... it wasn't that bad, Hadrian!" A blonde girl shouted, "Really..."

Said boy had himself slumped over, eating his eggs and hashbrowns in silence. He hadn't moved from this position for nearly ten minutes now, despite the girl nex to him attempting to apologize. He swallowed his last bit of eggs, before dipping the hashbrowns in garlic olive oil and finishing them as well. It was as if she didn't exist to him.

Until now.

"It was that bad." Was his reply, dabbing his mouth with the provided napkin afterwards, "It _**really**_ was that bad."

"But Harry-"

" _ **Don't**_ call me that right now." He cut the girl off, his voice turning to a low, harsh whisper, " _You get into my bed last night naked, and then wake me up by humping my leg and moaning_ _ **at four thirty in the morning, Miss Malfoy!**_ "

"Hehe, whoops..." Draconica responded sheepishly, her hand on her neck in an awkward gesture.

"Whoops? I- I- really can't stay mad at you for too long. It'll make everything awkward." He replied, breathing deeply to calm himself.

They had gotten up quite early, and were some of the few students to come down to breakfast when they arrived. Now, other students were shuffling into the dining hall and filling in their respective tables. Their friends were among this second wave of students, and Hadrian had spotted them enter the wall just as he was about to rant. Which was lucky for Draconica.

"'Ey, what're you doin up so early? Can barely get outta bed and you're nearly finished eating!" Ron said as he sat down, grabbing three helpings of eggs and way too many sausages for his lanky frame.

And then covering it all in gravy.

"It is a good idea to wake early, but you need sleep. It's bad for your mental health to get up before the sun." Hermione added, serving herself a more modest breakfast of toast and cereal, "Though, you did go to sleep early..."

"No, it definitely was bad for my mental health..." Harry said, staring at Draconica, "I would've woken with you guys had _she_ not come by and gotten me up at half-past-four!"

His stare and words lacked the sting they did earlier, and any remaining negativity was rendered moot when he laughed immediately after.

"Though, I'm fine with getting up early, so long as it's with a friend."

The group enjoyed a small laugh at their antics before settling into a normal breakfast rhythm. Though, Hadrian had already eaten his. And so had Draconica. They served themselves seconds, though, regardless of their lack of real hunger.

"So, since all of the first years have the same schedule, why don't we go over what we have today?" Hermione suggested, and the group all agreed. Preparation, both mental and physical, was a good idea.

"I may've been told a whole lot about the school... but I don't know my way around. " Ron said, shrugging, "Need help there."

Hadrian just smiled at that.

"Well I do, because I studied the map. And my mother had met a few friends here before." The Eveningshade said, "And the first class up is Potions. Then we have History, and finally we have Defense Against the Magical Arts. Potions is easy; it's in the dungeons. Defense is in Classroom 3C, on the third floor. It's in the Serpentine Corridor, which is why they put it with potions, cause then it's nice and easy to remember. History is on the first floor in Classroom 1F, so it's in between the other two."

Hermione nodded, and Ron just stared for a second in shock ( _How could someone remember all that?_ ) before shaking himself out of his stupor.

Draconica just continued to stare lovingly at Hadrian.

"Soooo, we get our Head of House as our first teacher? And it's in potions?" Ron said, smiling gleefully, "This'll be easy."

Laughter broke the four friends' conversation as another, older student walked up to Ron. He had brown hair, with thin strips of blonde mixed in, and he seemed to loom over all of them more than even the other upper classmen did. He must've been at least 185cm, if not a few taller. His skin was pale, but his constant laughter had turned his face red as a tomato. He really found Ron's statement to be funny, apparently.

"Did you just- *wheeze* -say that Professor Snape's class... is gonna be easy?" He said, "Oh no, oh god! I'm- oh that's hilarious! I thought I was good at potions, and I barely got an A! Acceptable, after ages of studying."

Ron just stared him down, a serious look on the redhead's face.

"Well, clearly you were rubbish at Potions if you studied for ages and only got an Acceptable!" He replied to the upper-classman.

Which got him even more laughter.

"Oh- oh boy! Bugger me! AHAHAHAHA!" The older boy laughed, "Got a tongue, now, dontcha?"

"OI! Stop botherin' im." A dark-skinned girl said, pushing the conversation intruder from behind, "He's right, though; you are rubbish at Potions, Galvin."

Galvin frowned humorously at that, fake pouting in disappointment.

"Surely, you jest!" He responded, earning a giggle, "But yeah, honestly, I'm absolute shite at Potions."

He paused after this, and his look turned serious and he sat down at the bench, backwards.

"Oh, and that reminds me... I've got some advice for you guys: The red boxed text is necessary for notes, the gold boxed text should be written in the margins and will be asked about in class, and blue is just skippable unless you're one of the few maniacs that understands potions theory."

The older girl nodded along.

"True. All of it. I don't even understand the theory beyond First Year, and I only just now grasped it." She said, "But I still got an Outstanding."

Ron nodded along as well, however, much to the older two's shock.

"I agree. The blue parts are mostly Theory based." He responded.

"Ya say that as if you read it all." The boy said, stunned.

"I have. And I understand it." Ron replied, adding in a whisper, " _Somewhat..._ "

Galvin's eyes widened to twice their previous size at that. He couldn't believe it...

"Well, colour me impressed. I guess you're serious about this potion thing. Damn." He said, "Only saw one person with a _basic_ understanding of it. If you really do understand, you'll have a much more fun year. Hell, much more fun time here in general. Only time I saw Snape smile... was when discussing theory."

"She sounds quite rough..." Hermione said.

""" **She is.** """ Multiple upper years said at once, laughing afterwards.

Hermione blanched, and Ron looked down, but Galvin smiled reassuringly at them.

"But with your knowledge, she'll be much less drab this year, I'm sure!"

Hermione smiled at that.

"Thanks."

"By the by, names Galvin Trollwood. Nice to meet you."

Ron accepted the other boys outstretched hand, before Harry followed suit.

"Yuh, nice to meetcha!" Ron said awkwardly.

"Good to make your acquaintance, Mister Trollwood." Hadrian said as he shook hands., "The name, as you most likely know, is Hadrian Eveningshade. And that thing, of course, is my friend Ron."

"That _THING_?" Ron shouted, staring injuredly at his friend.

Everyone laughed at that, smiles abound.

Until the sound for first class went off.

"Well, good luck, Ron!" Galvin shouted, "And good luck, you Potion Master!"

The blonde upper-year then ran off, catching up with the girl from earlier, laughter coming from them a moment later.

"Well, that was nice. Really picked up my spirits." Hadrian said, standing up as he did, "Off we go, though."

* * *

The trip was uneventful and short, leaving no room for talking between the trio of friends. They had arrived decently early, even among the Slytherin lot, and as such chose a table for themselves. The room was set up exactly as one would expect a potions room to be set up. Multiple tables, each with a cauldron pit, cutting area, and sink, were located in the semi-circular room. Along the edge, numerous display cases with different ingredients and warning labels stood over a counter top, that was then also covered in ingredients. A large cabinet stood at the front, labeled "Contraband, Bezoars, and Rare Ingredients _\+ Replacement Books_ ", the last bit clearly scribed on later. Beside the cabinet then stood the blackboard, where the instructions "Sit in groups of three and wait" were written.

After the trio had fully sat down at their chosen table, the rest of the class seemed to shuffle in at once, mostly being made up of Gryffindors. The group, Hadrian noted, seemed particularly noisy this year.

 _'Lots of mudbloods...'_ He thought, ' _Should be taught wizarding manners before they go here. Would help the lot of them... but of course, that's immoral. Wanting to help out new comers get used to a society in "bigoted"? Really? Fools.'_

 ***SLAM***

The door blasted open suddenly, revealing the dark form of Professor Snape in it's entryway. She stared beady-eyed around the room, before nodding once, swirling her cloak, and waltzing over to the front of the class.

"I am Professor Snape, Potion Teacher of Hogwarts. You may address my as Professor Snape, Miss Snape, Potion Mistress Snape, or Professor Prince. But, it would do you all good to learn to remain attentive and quiet while I am speaking. Questions will only be clarified _**at the end**_ of each lecture. Am I clear?" The tall, dark woman stated to the class.

""""Yes Professor/Miss Snape."""" The class chorused, much to the moody half-blood's liking.

"Good. We will be covering the simplest potions this year, as well as basic potion making safety and theory, if we are smart enough to do so. You do not need to brew Felix Felicis to get through my class with a decent grade. We do not expect you all to master this complex art; we only require that some of you half-baked tarts get it through your thick skull that you're less likely to brew a good potion than you are to spit galleons. This is a safety and information course, at its core." She ranted, "Understand? Wondrous. And for the rest of you lot, we hope one of you at least makes it through with a desire to continue on this path. Mr. Weasley, I believe, had mentioned he wanted to become a potioneer?"

The redheaded boy, who had been caught off guard, looked up at the professor like a deer in headlights.

"M-me? Oh, yes! I want to be a potion master." He said, awkwardly.

The dark woman frowned at that, a look of ponderence covering her face.

"Hmmm. Potion Master, you say? Well then, how about I test you and your classmates skill..." She began, turning towards the blackboard and flicking her wand at it, "... WITH A TEST! Correct answers award points to your house, misanswers cost and award nothing, embarrassing or dangerously incorrect answers grant negative points. Understand? Alright, first round, five points a question _correct_."

She peered around the room at her rapidly scrambling students, all of them attempting to find parchment.

"First question: What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Multiple students raised their hands, waving frantically to get the professor's attention. Said woman simply scanned the room nonchalantly before choosing a student near the back.

"Miss Longbottom?"

The girl in question quickly lowered her hand, her face blushing as she said, "T-their the same plant, Miss Snape..."

The woman nodded.

"Three points to Gryffindor." She said, "Now, second question: What is another name for this plant? Miss LeStrange?"

"The plant, or really, species of plant, is called Aconite. Also known as Leopardbane, Mousebane, Women's Bane, or Devil's Helmet."

"Fantastic." The potion mistress drawled, "Five points to Slytherin."

A student from Gryfindor raised at this.

"Hey, that's not fair! We only got-"

"Ten points from Gryiffindor. And detention for interruption." The professor said menacingly, though still in her monotone. "Next question: What is a bezoar, and where would I find it? Mr. Weasley?"

"An anti-poison. Or, really, anti-potion in general. Forces the expulsion of all magic manipulating substances, including all poisons and venoms except for causes major damage to internal organs and your magical core if used too often, or with exceptionally large dosages of potion or venom. Is not preferred, but can do in a pinch." He explained, Snape smiling ever-so-slightly at his indepth knowledge, "Found within goats, they are decently rare. Though, in the case of this room, they can be found within the front cabinet."

The class was awed.

"Wondrous." She said, a small tinge of genuine happiness in her tone, "But, you missed another source of Bezoars, and the special properties of those that come from this source. Fifteen points for your answer, but I will raise it to fifty if you answer this addendum."

Ron stopped, stumped for a moment, before a look of recognition and a smile crossed his face.

"Oh, well, Bezoars also come from Thestrals occasionally. These can expell even curse liquids, and the venom of a basilisk, legendarily." He said, "They are beyond rare, and they cost over thousand galleons a gram."

Snape stopped, frozen apparently in her stance, before a wide smile split her face.

"Beyond superb, Mister Weasley. Fifty points to Slytherin."

The class was now beyond awed, and the Gryffindors weren't even upset over that one. It was just plain impressive.

"I hope to see great things from you, Ronald." Professor Snape continued, "Though let us continue with our test for now. Can anyone tell me the difference between a potion and a draught?"

* * *

"That was bloody brilliant!" Hadrian shouted at his friend, "You made her _smile_ , genuinely _smile_!"

Ron just sheepishly laughed at that.

"It was nothin."

Hermione laughed at the two.

"You were great, too, Hermione! So knowledgeable you two! And here I thought I'd be the know-it-all!"

The trio continued on to history with the same sense of joy and camaraderie, wondering at what was awaiting them there.

Well, two of them were, but one of them already knew the big surprise.

The trio then entered Room 1F to find, well, a pretty average history classroom. Books, maps, whose-a-whatsits that no-one quite knew what they were, all par for the course. Each of them sat at their own desk, as the class slowly filled in behind them. Whispers filled the room, some about a ghost, others about a apparently new professor. The room looked different from their siblings or parents description, and many hoped it was true that the old spirit had been replaced.

And their hopes were answered as a woman with brown hair and a short, angular face walked in with a rolling cart filled with books in tow.

"Welcome to Muggle and Magic History class, I will be your instructor: Miss Petunia Evans, aunt of Mister Eveningshade over there."

The whole class except Harry froze at that. He just waved.

"Hello, Aunty!"

"Hey, wait, isn't she a muggle."

"I was."

"HUH?!"

* * *

 **Afterthoughts, and Bonus Omake!**

 **This chapter was pretty short, I know, and it ended on a cliffhanger... sorta. But I got the general plot down for this, which is good.**

 **For those that care, you know, all three of you... The Rage of the Tyrant will be updated, like, tomorrow.**

 **About the omake/short story: Mostly just some story started I had, thought you'd like it. Unrefined, sure... but pretty interesting.**

 **It was a precursor to this story I found in my FanFic folder, and has been refined. It's called " _Lily's Back_ " and is about a undead Lily coming to save her son.**

 **Oh, and NOT A LEMON this time.**

 **So, no worries...**

* * *

He was one when she died. He didn't remember, obviously, but he was scarred by it nonetheless, both mentally and physically. He had screamed, and sometimes he still screamed and screamed at night when the terrors came. He wished she was still here.

He was six when she came back. It had been a Saturday, and he'd heard a soft knocking on the outside door to his Aunt and Uncle's house.

"I'll get it, Vernon!" His Aunt had said, quickly followed by the rapid tap of her footsteps as she approached the front entrance, "Now, who could-"

A gasp followed the sound of a door opening, and immediately after that the sound of his Aunt stumbling backwards rang through his spot under the stairs.

"You-you-you-" His Aunt mumbled, "YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!"

Now he was interested. He leaned forward against the cupboard door, and heard a voice. Though, it seemed to come from within his own head!

 _'Mummy's here, Harry dearest!'_ A soft voice rang through his mind, _'Sorry I was gone for so long. Sorry Aunty has been mean! But now, mum is here to **ease your worries!**_ '

He felt comfortable at the sound of the voice.

 _'Mother...'_ He thought softly.

"Mmmrrrgggg—lg" A possibly feminine voice moaned, barely a hoarse grumble, "Grggglegllll"

A scream pierced his ears, and the sound of his Aunt scrambling could be heard through his cupboard.

And then a sickly squishing sound, followed by a pained gurgle, came from the entrance hallway.

"Pet, what is iiiiiiiii AAAAAHHHHHH!" Vernon screamed, "Monst-rggggg"

More squishing sounds.

Chewing.

Swallowing.

The process and cycle of sounds repeated for a few moments, before the sound of something heavy being dragged was heard. Then another, less heavy, object.

Then footsteps going up the stairs.

It was creepy, oh that was sure, but he wasn't scared. He knew it was only his mum.

There was another scream, this time from his cousin. Muffled eating sounds echoed again.

The thumping of a person dragging an object down the stairs came next. Then the back door opening.

Then the shuffling of feet towards the cupboard door.

Then the door opened.

"Mummy!" Harry shouted and instantly leapt into his mother's outstretched arms. They were a little bit bloodsoaked, and she seemed a bit strange when compared to her old pictures he'd seen, but he knew it was her!

"Mummy I missed you so much!" He continued, "They hit me, and locked me in a cupboard! And made me do every chore!"

She smiled, her jagged, sharp teeth forming a calm and serene motherly smile, as her red hair framed her marble skin. She stank of death and decay, as if she was, and technically she had been til about a week prior, a rotting corpse.

"Uuurrrghagggllrrll..." She groaned.

 _'Oh love. I can't believe she'd be so terrible! I can't believe I could fail as a mother!'_

She hugged him tight, as tears made of embalming fluid flowed down to the floor, and her bloodsoaked, torn up dress pressed into her son.

 _'I am so, so, so sorry!'_ She continued in his mind, only moaning in the physical world, _'I won't fail like this again! Let's get you something to eat... how does roast sound?'_

Harry smiled and yipped as he ran to the kitchen and started the stove, only to be scooped up by his zombified mother.

"GUUUUURRRG!" She grumbled.

 _'No, no, no! That's much to dangerous for a child like you! You could burn!'_ She reprimanded, _'I'll handle this from now on, little love. Come 'ere!'_

He walked back over, the small sulk he'd been in for being reprimanded over, and squeezed his mother tight again. The sickly stale scent of her body was clearing up, as the flesh and souls, as well as his and her latent magic, began to heal her now practically immortal undead form. She wasn't alive, no, but she would never be 'alive' again. Instead, she was close enough.

"Um, mummy... can I- um- can I watch the- the-?" He mumbled, not sure how to ask to watch the morning cartoons.

"Juuurrrr guj!"

 _'Sure, love! Lay back for a while, and soon we'll be back at Potter Manor!'_ She said.

He yipped with joy again as he ran over to the television and flicked it on, before setting it to his favourite channel to listen to in the cupboard. It was much better with the actual show to go with the sounds! And soon enough, well, as soon as a roast could be done, he had had his first real cooked meal! It was much better than scraps! Though it tasted odd, and he didn't remember Aunty buying a roast...

"Mrrrrrrrrrn!"

 _'Are you done, love!? As soon as you are, and all~lll your stuff is gathered, we can take off to Potter Manor!'_ His mum asked.

This got him thinking; his Aunt's maiden name was Evans. So his mum must be an Evans, and not a Potter. So his father must be a Potter, and thus Potter Manor should have his father!

"Mum, is dad gonna be there?" He asked with excitement and trepidation. He was met with a frown.

"Hurrrrrrnnn"

 _'No. Daddy's not coming back... he's gone. For good. So sorry, my sweet love. I'm sorry, and so is he. His soul is no doubt watching from... Heaven...'_ She said.

Truth be told, his soul was definitely not in heaven, as she had eaten it when she had returned, in order to regain enough strength to move and restart her magic core. It was a woeful, yet necessary, sacrifice...

"Oh..." Harry pouted, "Okay."

The young boy sulked at the thought that his father was gone for good... but, one parent was better than none! And he had a manor to visit soon! He quickly cleaned up his plates into the sink, before grabbing all of the items under the stairs, as well as his cousin's toys and game system. After all, poor sap was dead now, wasn't he, so he had no more use for toys!

"Hrllllllljk..." His mother called out from down stairs.

 _'Hurry up, sweet love! I have so much to show you.'_

A wicked smile crossed her lips.

 _'So, so, so much... hehe!'_


End file.
